


Estrangement

by managerie



Series: RINCH [17]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Coda for s03e13 4C, Episode Related, Episode: s03e13 4C, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Missing Scene, rinch, temporary break-up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-24
Updated: 2014-12-06
Packaged: 2018-01-20 14:14:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1513490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/managerie/pseuds/managerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of <b><i>4C </i></b> John and Harold need to reach an understanding</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Accommodating

**Author's Note:**

> I thought John leaving "without a word" was out of character for Reese now. He did that with Jessica and I couldn't see him doing that to Harold. This is what I believe happened. Takes place later that same day in Italy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Read by Blue_Finch but please tell us if you see grammar, spelling, or other errors.

~ * ~

~ * ~

 

John entered the hotel room with a smile. He was back with Finch, where he belonged. Yes, The Machine wasn’t perfect, but Finch programmed it that way. A perfect god-like creation would be a bad thing.

John’s smile fell when he noticed the room’s accommodations. Usually Finch booked a suite for them. One room for Finch’s computers and another room where they would sleep. It gave the illusion that they were sleeping apart in case anyone had homophobic tendencies and because Finch was a very private person. Instead of a living room with two exits to two separate bedrooms, John saw only a single bed with a single bathroom. His hotel room was for a single occupant. The bed would barely hold Reese much less Finch and his pillows. Finch had placed them in separate rooms, why? They were in Italy. Why would Finch have them in separate rooms now that they were together?

John didn’t even drop off his duffle bag or his new suit in the room. He checked the tracker he had on Finch. Sure enough, Finch was across the hall. Reese spun around and headed straight for Finch’s room. Apparently there was some things they still needed to talk about.

 

 

 

 


	2. Acclimation

John knocked on the hotel room’s door after trying the handle and finding it locked. Of course Reese could pick the lock in seconds, but obviously Finch needed or wanted privacy. It wouldn't do to scare Finch half to death; wrong tone for this meeting.

A muffled, “Just a moment,” was heard then Finch opened the door in a hotel issue terry cloth bathrobe. Upon seeing John, Finch clutched at the robe’s collar and tightened the closures. John was now irritated as well as puzzled. Finch was closing his robe tighter in John’s presences when just a month ago Reese had licked every inch of Finch’s skin in passion. The very idea of modesty between them was laughable.

Finch’s eyes were bulging out of his head and he almost seemed afraid. John responded to this immediately. He cleared his face and softened his eyes. He bent his knees to appear smaller. Carefully, as if trying to catch a frightened rabbit, John stretched his arms out to slowly and deliberately encircle Finch into his arms. Instead of melting into the embrace like he always did, Finch scurried across the room as quickly as he could. John’s heart sank.

Reese had to find out why Finch was now so distant and shy around him. Something must have happened while John was away, but what? 

 

  
  


 


	3. Accusation

Meekly, John asked, “Can I hold you?

Harold sputtered a reply, “What?”

John pleaded with his eyes, praying Harold saw the sincerity in them, “I feel so far away from you right now. I thought,” John licked his lips. “I thought you understood why I left. I thought you knew I was coming back.”

Harold dropped his arms, clenched his fists, and contorted his face in anger. “How could I have known that when you left without a word?

John’s blood drained from his face. “I sent a voice message to our drop box as we arranged. Didn’t you hear it?”

Harold gulped, “What?”

John sat heavily onto the California queen in Finch’s room. Speech was beyond him. His eyes stung with the beginnings of tears. His throat constricted. He felt as if he couldn’t breathe. Harold didn’t get his message! How can that be? Oh God! Harold thought John left him with nothing, but an empty bed behind?

John’s brain which had been torn apart and rebuilt to military and CIA specs was completely shut down. All his faculties were flaring with distress signals. Harold thought John had left for good, forever. Reese couldn’t conceive of anything crueler that he could have done to the reclusive, paranoid man.

When they had declared their love to each other they had promised to never leave without at least making the decision together. Harold had to exit Grace's life without a word. John had taken the decision out of Jessica’s hands as well. Both men realized how much pain and sorrow they had left behind. So, in their new relationship they abandoned nothing to chance. They had arranged safewords, dropboxes, post office boxes, and phone dumps all over the world to make triple sure that if they were ever separated they could still communicate and make decisions as a couple.This excluded situations involving The Irrelevants list of course

John had been under the impression that Harold had received all the information about his sabbatical. It seemed that was not the case. John had broken one of their three vows. The other two had been _never lie to each other_ and _The Numbers come first_. Now that John no longer had a place in Harold’s life, he was adrift. What was he going to do now?

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lord have mercy I am so sorry for the delay!! My muse went on summer vacation! Sorry! New chapter soon I promise!


	4. Agreement

The room was still and quiet. John’s distress and Harold’s confusion were radiating throughout the room. John’s upset was a living thing, thrashing about in devastated fits and flops. After a few minutes Harold asked, “Where did you leave the message?”

John raised his head, “On the Harold Divers’ inbox.” Harold nodded as if he was convinced that John did indeed leave a message. So, John asked,“You believe me?”

Harold tilted his head slightly, “Of course John. You would never lie to me.”

John laughed horribly. It was sorrow, tears, fright, and hysteria rolled into a chuckle that made Harold’s heart ache. Reese looked on the verge of sobs or a commitment to an asylum. Harold rushed over to him. John raised his arms around Harold’s waist and the dams burst.

All the grief, anxiety, uncertainty, and anger of the last few weeks gushed forth. John pressed his hot and wet face into Harold’s tummy. His breath was moist and heated. Harold soothed as best he could. The position strained Harold’s back so John pulled away after a few minutes. He was a mess; unkempt stubble, hair askew, eyes red, nose running, and Harold couldn’t have asked for a better sight. John looked up at Harold and asked, “So, you forgive me?”

Harold took John’s face into his hands and softly kissed raw, chapped lips, “Nothing to forgive Mr. Reese.”

“Harold,” John voice cracked and he looked on the precipice of sobbing again. “You thought I had left you. You were convinced you would never see me again. Worse still, after the misunderstandings on the plane.” John’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth in horror. “Hell Finch, I practically blamed you for everything! You can’t forgive that!”

“John,” Harold removed his snotty robe revealing his boxers, “You thought I had manipulated you into working for me again.”

“That is not an excuse!” John bursted out. “I acted like a brat. God, this is one big FUBAR from start to finish.”

“Whatever has happened,” Harold sat next to John, “It is in the past and we will move on.”

“No,” John  shook his head, “You can’t be this forgiving Harold. I blamed you and acted like a callous ass. You should be asking for groveling and a dire penance.”

“Your sins are minor in the scheme of things.”

John stood up and took Harold’s hands, “I need to convince you to stand up for yourself, but I also need to clean off and I refuse to stop touching you. Take a bath with me so I can explain exactly why you should slap me for being a jerk?”

John pulled Harold to his feet and led them to the bathroom. A large jacuzzi for Harold’s back was already full of steaming, hot water. John said, “I interrupted your bath right?”

“Almost. I was preparing to soak when you knocked.”

Reese nodded, blew his nose on some tissue, and began to strip. Harold removed his shorts then set the towels within easy reach. John went in first, his long legs following the circumference of the large tub. Harold stepped in with John’s hands to lean on. Harold sat within the protective arms and legs of his returned lover.  

Reese cradled Finch like a teddy bear for some minutes, just soaking up his man. Harold for his part was releasing sorrows of his own. John was here and he was still Harold’s partner in all things. Their burden was shared once again. The weight that had been pressing down on Harold since that horrible night in front of the precinct wasn’t gone, but simply better distributed between them. For a few minutes Harold had a measure of peace and security.

After some minutes John tried to explain. “Harold I honestly was coming back. I would never leave you. I am for all intents and purposes your husband. I take that role seriously. After,” He swallowed hard. “After Joss died I was angry.”

Harold nodded against John’s chest, “I know.”

John interrupted , “I wasn’t angry at you, not then. I was angry at The Machine.” John turned Harold onto his side so they could see each other’s face. “I felt that The Machine was deciding who would live and who would die. Carter should not have died saving me. I felt that it was pointless working on the Numbers. We saved her two years ago for what? She died anyway.”

John sighed and nuzzled Harold’s nose. “I was going to take a break from everything and get the anger under control.  My behavior before I left, the stupid actions I took trying to find Simmons. I was ashamed of myself. I nearly died. You would not have recovered from losing me, not after losing Nathan and Grace. It would have hurt you beyond measure. I’m sorry I did that.”

“I understood.”

John cradled Harold to his chest, “You always understand. You need to stop taking my side. You do that with everyone. You never protect yourself. Most of the time you should know it is not your fault. Bad things happen not because of your actions but because of selfish people who blindly head into bad situations. They aren’t your fault. Joss wasn’t your fault. Nathan and Grace weren’t your fault. My anger and self pity was not your fault.”

“On the plane you said,”

John shook Harold to stop him from continuing, “On the plane I thought you were ignoring my wishes. I thought you knew I was only going for a few weeks. That I was taking a break but returning.”

John swallowed hard. He was embarrassed and ashamed for what he had done and thought, but Harold needed to know why John attacked him without cause. “I thought you only wanted me for the mission. That since I was only quitting the job I figured you would be upset, but you would have respected my decision. After all, I was coming back to live with you as your lover. We were going to be alright. I just wasn’t going to work for The Machine anymore. Then, I get on that plane and it looked like you were forcing me to work again. Manipulating me into helping you made me think that you had been only intimate with me to keep me compliant, still working the Numbers.”

Harold did his best to sit up. “You thought I slept with you to keep you working not out of genuine feelings for you as person? That I only saw you as an asset?”

John nodded, “I was hurt and I wanted to hurt you back.” Tears formed in John’s eyes, “Kara used to test my loyalty and…”

Harold kissed John fiercely. “I swear to you. I would never do that. I love you, I want you. If you asked me to stop our work and retire it would be hard, but I would do it for you.”

John kissed Harold jaw and neck. “I know that intellectually, but I was a raw nerve of grief and I forgot who you were. You are nothing like Stanton. You are an honorable man. I just couldn't see that from all the mess that was in my head.”

John kissed Harold’s lips a few more times then grabbed a sponge to start washing his lover’s back. “I am so sorry. I should have realized that something happened to my voice mail.”

Harold turned around to allow Reese to wash and pamper him but said, “When we get out I will check it again. Perhaps it was erased by accident.” Harold spent the rest of the bath thinking about the missing voice mail and letting Reese do all the work. When John was like this he needed to cater to Harold’s every need. It helped John feel useful and fed his protective streak.

 

****  
  
  
  



	5. Absolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some Rinch healing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From research we know the episode Endgame took place on 11/10/2013. And the episode 4C was on the winter solstice 12/21/2013. We don’t have any set dates for the episodes in between.  
> I am assuming The Crossing took place soon after Endgame. Carter dies on 11/11/2013 Veteran's day : a fitting tribute to her.  
> Reese was injured and so was probably unconscious. The Devil’s Share ended most likely on 11/14/2013. I am going to assume it took a few weeks for Reese to heal enough to travel.So I have him leaving on November 28th. That was Thanksgiving that year and I felt that after a modest thanksgiving meal at his hospital bed he wouldn’t feel very thankful. So I have him leaving that night.  
> For this fic Lethe happened around the 5th of December. Reese comes back on the 6th and leaves Harold again on the 7th.  
> So Reese is apart from Harold from the 28th to the 7th= 10 days  
> Then from the 7th to the 21st =14 days  
> A total of 24 days
> 
>  
> 
> Endgame-11/10/2013  
> The Crossing- Carter dies the 11th of November  
> The Devil’s Share- 11/14/2013  
> Reese healing  
> Reese leaves the 28th, Thanksgiving  
> Lethe 12/05/2013  
> Aletheia - 12/07/2013  
> Reese comes back then leaves again on the 7th  
> 4C- 12/21/2013

~ * ~

 

~ * ~

John removed the plug from the tub to allow the dirty water to empty. He stood up and assisted Harold in standing as well. John turned on the water and checked the temperature. When it was warm enough, he flipped the shower on so they could rinse off. John turned Harold this way and that with a firm hold on the those love handles.

Once Harold was suitably rinsed, John dropped to his knees and put the head of Harold’s cock into his mouth. John began to knead and suck with his lips, trying to harden the shaft.

Harold tapped on John’s shoulders and reluctantly pulled his hips away. “I’m afraid my body has not adjusted to the change in time or situation.”

John looked up in despair, it seemed that the misunderstanding was still between them. John stood forlornly, grabbed a towel and began to dry Harold.

Finch stopped him and said, “It will be alright John. I am not a young man. I don’t bounce back as easily as I used to. But I assure you, I have forgiven all and we will soon be together in all things. I just need time.”

Harold kissed John lovingly. Faith restored, John finished drying them both. Harold grabbed a clean robe while John slipped on clean boxers.

In truth, the message and its disappearance was consuming all of Harold’s mental capacity. When he became obsessed with something like their safety or some electronic project, Harold was incapable of allowing his body to take over his mind.

Reese did not trust the hotel cleaners with his clothes as he might need to pack in a hurry. So, John began sorting the dirty laundry into piles of quickly drying garments and things that took too long to clean.

Well used to John’s routine, Harold went to check on the voicemail. As Harold trusted John to tell the truth, the lack of a message was troubling. Had someone hacked into their system? Could Decima have discovered their drop box? Was the Harold Divers’ identity compromised? That was their clean ID as a married couple. John Fitzpatrick and Harold Divers had been married for two years. They resided in upstate New York. Harold was retired and on disability. John was retired from the Army Rangers and ran a shooting range. They were the aliases that Harold and John would retire under if one or both of them could not work the Numbers any longer. Harold would be devastated if the ID was compromised but caution was of the utmost importance.

When Harold went to check on the inbox, inexplicably there was a message that had not been there in the last six weeks. It was dated the night of Thanksgiving, the night John left. Back tracking through every possible gateway to that voicemail yielded few results. The message had disappeared shortly after it was left. Then reappeared about an hour ago. No trace or trail to indicate what had happened.

 

Harold played it.

 

 

 

> _Finch...I need to go away for a while._
> 
> _I’m not mad at you, but at your boss._

{ a pause then a clearing of a throat}

 

 

> _I just wanted to say thank you for everything._
> 
> _I meant what I said, every word._
> 
> _I will be back in a few weeks._
> 
> _Please be careful._
> 
> _You’re someone the world can’t afford to lose too you know._
> 
> _I’ll be with you soon._

{ another pause}

 

 

> _Always._

 

Harold saved the message to another line through fourteen different proxy servers so that no human could ever find the message, but that Harold himself could listen to it from time to time. In case he ever needed to remind himself that he was loved by an extraordinary man.

Reese took that moment to look at Harold across the room. Their eyes met. Harold smiled his lopsided, quirking of lips. John’s response was a broad grin showing his perfect teeth. Harold blushed and dipped his head. He closed the laptop to begin to dress. He kept it casual and light. Italy’s mild weather was certainly a vacation from New York’s extremes.

Once both men were dressed, they left for the museum. Harold was very appreciative of John shaving. In the elevator and taxi, Harold kept running his perfect, small, and agile hands over John’s face. John himself was delighted. He knew Harold liked the stubble occasionally, but also enjoyed the smooth feeling of a freshly shorn Reese.  

Come to think of it, Harold liked John’s face however John presented it. It was something wonderful about Harold that made John so thankful and happy. Harold treasured John completely and in all ways. Harold never asked John to change who he was or bend to Harold’s preferences. It was a trait that John himself valued beyond measure.

John paid for their tickets while Harold gathered the brochures and handbooks. They walked slowly through the halls. John dared to hold Harold’s hand in public. Harold for his part was shocked for only a few seconds. Harold bless him, didn’t even look around for danger. He merely paused for a few seconds, not accustomed to public displays of affection, but then he squeezed John’s hand and continued lecturing on the piece in front of them. John swelled with pride. Not only had Harold not balked at the gesture, but Harold also trusted that John would have checked the room for danger before making the overture.

Harold read from the handbook briefly for each piece then he simply talked about what the art meant to him. His constant chatter was pleasant to John who was just soaking up the rare opportunity to just be with his boyfriend.

However, the background noise of Harold's voice broke off as they approached a surreal installation. John stood up straighter. There was obvious tension in Harold’s body as a result of this painting by Giorgia de Chirico. This was the one that Harold wanted to show John.

Harold spoke in quiet tones about the history of the artist and the meanings behind the painting. He went silent for a few moments. John circled his waist with a long arm, giving silent support.

Finally, Harold sighed and looked at John. “This is one of Grace’s favorite artists. Her favorite piece of all time is his Red Tower. I paid for it to be shown at the Guggenheim on her birthday. She was so happy. She didn’t know I had arranged its presence but she did appreciate my getting her in after hours for a private viewing.”

He paused wistfully then said, “We kissed for the first time that night. It was a carefree and dreamlike day. One I wish you and I could share, but given our line of work it seems unlikely.”

Harold turned back to the painting, but continued to speak in a hushed whisper, “I wanted to share this with you while we could. There is a great deal of my past I can never share, no matter how much I may want to, not even with you. However, this little slice is something I can give you. I hope you understand I wanted to show this work not just for its beauty but for the artist's importance to Grace. I will always love her of course, but my relationship with her is over.”

Harold paused and swallowed. His eyes were misty as he said, “She is an important part of my past that I will never be able to return to just as you will never be allowed to return to Jessica. You still love Jessica and I will never begrudge you your love nor will I ever want you to remain silent about your relationship with her. She is a part of you, she helped shape the man I fell in love with. I would never want you to keep silent about her, your time together, or any other aspects of your past.”

Harold turned his body to face John again, “Does that make sense?”

John smiled wobbly and cupped Harold face in his hands, “Yes. It makes sense.” John leaned down and kissed Harold gently. John hoped all the emotion and gratitude he felt but couldn’t articulate was being communicated through their connection.

When they pulled apart, Harold seemed to have gotten the message. They walked hand in hand for a few more exhibits, but then decided to get a light lunch.

They ordered rich, dark coffee and small antipasto plates. About half way through their meal John had the urge to feed some of it to Harold. He decided not to stifle that desire. Harold’s eyes widened, but he diligently opened his mouth to take in the seasoned morsel.

He chewed politely and John couldn’t resist teasing, “You can fit quite a lot in that mouth I see.”

The heat that flashed in Harold’s eyes along with the flush that spread across his face and chest brought John up short. He asked for the check and a box to go. Harold barely had time to finish his coffee before John had them both in a taxi racing to the hotel room.

Harold was embarrassed, “I hope you don’t think I am usually so uncontrolled but..”

John interrupted, “Harold if you apologize for wanting to fuck me I will be forced to shoot out your kneecap.”

Harold coughed and checked to make sure the driver was ignoring them. “To be completely honest, it wasn’t the idea of fucking ** _you_** that excited me, quite the reverse actually.”

John’s own eyes widened and he fumbled for his wallet. He shoved eighty Euros at the driver, asking the man to break any laws he had to in order to get them to the hotel pronto!

The passengers sat back trying not to touch each other for fear of exploding indecently right there in broad daylight. It was the longest car ride of their lives.

 

 


	6. Accounting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happened to John's message to Harold?

 

~ * ~

11/28/2013, Thanksgiving Night

~ * ~

 

The Library was quiet with Root dozing to the unique lullaby of the Morse code from The Machine. This particular passage was about coding for repeat offenders. Harold had tried to predict which criminals were the most likely to return to a life of crime after leaving prison. The code, of course was elegant as always. Root found it more beautiful the more she discovered. The Machine was proud of it. That was obvious. They were about to discuss the applications of such code when SHE stopped transmitting and instead went quiet.

Root sat up on alert. “What is it?”

SHE did not answer for a few heartbeats. The silence was terrible. It left Root inside her own head again, alone with her own thoughts. Root hated that.

Finally, SHE explained that Asset Reese had abandoned his sick bed and was making his way to the Library. From the information of anatomy that SHE accessed, John was well enough from his ordeal.

However, Harold’s lapdog had not contacted Harold. Harold was still asleep at the apartment thinking Reese was in bed just a few yards away. Looked like Reese was escaping. Of course, now that his precious Carter was dead Reese would leave Harold. It was inevitable, Root thought.

SHE said Reese was gathering some identification and some cash: typical ungrateful monkey. John had no idea how blessed he was being allowed so close to a genius like Harold. Reese would waste this once in a lifetime opportunity for something as foolish as the loss of a cop.

SHE said Reese was leaving a voice message for Harold.

Root asked if SHE would transmit the message to Root.

 

 

 

 

> Finch...I need to go away for a while.
> 
> I’m not mad at you, but at your boss.
> 
> I just wanted to say thank you for everything.
> 
> I meant what I said, every word.
> 
> I will be back in a few weeks.
> 
> Please be careful.
> 
> You’re someone the world can’t afford to lose too you know.
> 
> I’ll be with you soon.
> 
> Always.

 

Asset Reese has left the building SHE said.

SHE said that it looked like Asset Reese would be returning.

Root knew better. “Delete that message.”

SHE did not understand.

Root explained, “John isn’t coming back. He left that message to assuage his guilt. He is leaving Harold like he left Jessica.”

SHE said that Asset Reese had always been loyal to Admin. Asset Reese would not lie to Admin.

Root shook her head. “What happened the last time John lost a woman he loved?”

SHE said that John was not sleeping with Asset Detective Carter.

Root smirked, “Not yet anyway. You know John liked her. You know he nearly died to avenge her death. That is the sign of a man in love. John is leaving Harold like he left the CIA.”

SHE said Asset Reese would not do that. He has formed a bond with Admin.  Asset Reese has declared his love for Admin.

Root sighed, “That is all well and good, but access your memory banks. What does the data tell you? Does it seem more likely that John is never coming back?”

SHE was silent.

Root continued, “What will Admin do? Will he just go on with the mission? Or will he pine for his friend? Will Harold be working to his utmost capabilities? No. Harold will mope around and be useless. He will wait for John. When John never returns, Harold will begin the grieving process.”

SHE agreed that Admin would do exactly that if Asset Reese were to never return.

Root pulled her covers closer around her body. “Wouldn’t it be more efficient, more humane to let Admin start his grieving now? Wouldn’t it be better for all of us if Harold had no hope? Hope can be the most hurtful of all.”

SHE was silent for a few minutes. Then SHE said that the message had been deleted. Root smiled under her blankets.

 

~ * ~

12/21/2013, Winter Solstice: The Longest Darkness and Shortest Light

~ * ~

 

In the coming days The Machine had regretted her decision. Admin refused to work the Numbers at all just as Asset Reese had done when his partner was missing. While Asset Reese had not returned to the mission, he had dropped everything to protect Admin.  

Now, Asset Reese was leaving for Istanbul and Admin was doing nothing about it. It was obvious that Asset Reese had only held friendship and admiration for Asset Detective Carter. Her death did upset Asset Reese, but not as a lover; only as a comrade.

Asset Reese blamed himself and The Machine for her death. He had not lost his love for Admin. Instead, Asset Reese was insuring that a possible threat to Admin, Alastair Wesley could be eliminated.  

Analog Interface had gotten it all wrong. Even though she was a human she could not look into the heart of men. Admin had said that the human heart was the greatest mystery. The Machine should have remembered that, should have left that message for Admin to find.

Just as Admin tried to correct his previous error so too must The Machine try to set right what has gone wrong through her own error. The Machine would put Asset Reese on a certain plane. He is an honorable man, Admin has said so many times. Asset Reese and Admin will work this out.

~ * ~

12/22/2013, Three Days Before Christmas

~ * ~

Admin and Asset Reese are together finally! The issue of the missing message has come up. The Machine is indecisive. Should the message be returned? Admin might burn his alias attached to the inbox. This would hurt Admin. The Machine decided to correct her error. Admin will receive the lost message as well as a package from The Machine itself.

The Machine drafted a letter to be delivered to their hotel room. Coded of course, but Admin was brilliant, he would know who sent it. Let the cards fall where they may. The Machine was confident in her Admin and Asset.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this took so long. Explicit reconciliation in the next chapter!


	7. Acceptance

 

~ * ~

 

~ * ~

They managed to keep apart long enough to pass the lobby and get onto the elevator. Harold pressed the floor’s button while John grabbed his lover about the waist. They kissed full-mouthed and deliriously. The hand-holding all day had kept them connected as a couple, this press of lips flared the fire that forged them as lovers.

John explored Harold’s mouth with an intensity that would have frightened Harold in the beginning. Years together had accustomed Harold to the whole bodied approach of John’s love making.

John never did anything half-way. His kiss was as interactive and complete as any task he undertook. John let his hips merge with Harold’s stomach, then bent his knees in a practised move to rub their groins together. John’s outstretched right arm snaked between Harold’s layers to rest at the base of his spine, while the left hand cupped Harold’s ass.

Just as John was about to pull Harold’s undershirt out of the pants and hike Harold up a lengthy thigh, the elevator’s bell rang out. The lovers rushed apart, both panting. Usually, Harold would have rebuked John for his indiscretion, but today both men were feeling the urgency.

They stumbled out the elevator, grateful the hall was empty. No one could see their pink faces, flushed with arousal, and puffy lips from kissing, Harold’s glasses fogged.

Harold tried to open the door, but his hands shook so much that John took over. Their door opened and they hesitated at the entrance. The room had not been cleaned because Harold and John always cleaned it themselves for fear of agents spying on them. The bed was still made and it beckoned to them, but neither man was willing to sacrifice security for expediency.

They ran a sweep of the room. In a practised move, each man took a section of the accommodations to reassure themselves that no tampering or surveillance devices had taken place. Harold checked his laptop and the cameras as Reese checked the window ledges and the bathroom, gun ready. Once John was satisfied the room was safe, he placed his gun on the bedside table then stripped the covers and top sheet off the mattress. He folded them neatly at the foot of the bed.  

He took off his jacket and pants, hanging them up in the bathroom to let the steam release the wrinkles. In boxer briefs and undershirt, he placed his shoes and belt on a chair next to the bed. His socks and topshirt were piled in the dirty clothes section of his laundry to be tended to later.

Harold has removed his own shoes and socks, but took his time setting up his computer so John went over to pull off the man’s belt and liberate him from his pullover. The lack of a three piece suit was novel, but John wanted skin.  Harold sputtered indignantly as John pulled the shirt over his head. Harold grabbed for his glasses before they fell to the floor. His pants crumpled to the floor, showing how much weight he had lost.

John frowned. He pulled Harold close and ran his hands along the beloved belly. He noticed a lack of curve in the love handles. The frown deepened into a scowl. “Have you been eating? I didn’t think you were that busy with Numbers. Shaw eats all the time. She could get you something if you were preoccupied.”

Harold hugged his middle defensively. “I haven’t had much of an appetite.”

John was hit by a pang of guilt. “You haven’t felt like eating? Since when? Since I left? Dammit Harold…”

Harold lunged for his lover and interrupted, “It wasn’t just your absence. The loss of a dear friend makes one rather unenthusiastic for meals.”

Harold frowned himself now. “I’ve ruined the mood haven’t I?”

John rallied, “No, no you haven’t. I just worry about you.” He pecked Harold’s cheek reverently.  “It’s my own fault for running. I should have.” John sighed. “I should have stayed. I won’t leave again. If her death has taught me anything, it’s that we have a limited time on this earth to appreciate those we love. I won’t waste another day being apart from you if I don’t have to.”

John embraced the shorter man, letting Harold’s head rest on his shoulder. They stood there for a few moments just soaking up the presence of the other. Two men in shorts and undershirts swaying slightly to an unheard tune, a song that strummed through them, a chorus of their hearts beating in time.

The hug became loose as each man began to run his hands down the body of the other. Harold appreciated the strong, golden, and glowing strength held at bay in that perfect, unbroken spine. John enjoyed the landscape of peaks and valleys, the dip at the small of the back culminating in the swell of an amble rump. At least Harold still has his own cushion.

Harold paced through John’s shoulders to caress the well defined pectorals. Each muscle was highlighted through the thin material of the shirt. John leaned down to kiss Harold’s brow. His lips roamed the furrows that guarded that massive brain. Those expressive eyebrows were nibbled. Harold’s temples were stroked with John ’s mouth. John ran his five o’clock shadow across those adorable sideburns.

The heat was returning to them. Touching, nearness, belonging was giving rise to craving, libido, and desire. John’s shaft was tingling and warm. He had yet to become fully erect the whole day. They weren’t kids popping boners over a gust of wind. Their boiling point was reached gently.

More skin, more touch, more Harold was a necessity. So, John dragged himself away to yank his undershirt off. He threw the thing across the room to his laundry pile. He beckoned to Harold with an outstretched arm, palm up. Harold placed his small hand inside the large paw of his lover who guided them to the bed.

Standing near the mattress, John removed Harold’s glasses to sit them beside his gun, then carefully freed Harold from his t-shirt. In the beginning, Harold had shied away from underdressing completely, at least with the light on. Now, after years of trust, Harold rarely gave his nudity in front of John a second thought. This was a gift that John never took for granted.

John sat on the bed. His weight dipped the fluffy mattress as he rubbed the waistband of Harold’s boxers. Looking straight into Harold’s eyes, John lowered the shorts. Harold used John’s shoulders for balance as he stepped out of them. John kissed Harold’s half full cock then rubbed his nose in the fur around Harold’s navel.

Harold scratched his nails against John’s scalp, threading the black and grey hairs through his fingers. John moved his mouth down, lapping in the sweat and taste of his husband. Scent held the strongest memory, this memory was precious and yearned for. Of all the creature comforts John missed on his travels, it was this unique spice that brought tears to his eyes. The tang became stronger as heated blood pulsed to Harold’s groin releasing pheromones. John’s tongue swirled and swept each section of tantalizing flesh on its journey.  Soon, his chin was scorched by a mostly erect shaft. John again looked up. Harold’s eyes were beginning to brighten with arousal, his hands to clench at the hair.

Knowing the show he was putting on for an audience that was well versed in all his tricks, John lowered his pursed lips to the redding head of Harold’s cock. John circled it with his tongue while still watching Harold’s reactions. The turn-on was for both of them. John’s boiling point was usually met by pleasuring Harold.

The phallus tasted clean, but musky. The bulbous head was slowly sucked into John’s mouth. The wet slide, and hot, questing, gripping pressure made Harold gasp and rock back on his heels. John hummed around the firming flesh. Harold stroked John’s neck, following the lines of muscle and tendons. John pulled more of the shaft inside himself.  His mouth watered, lubricating his upstroke.

The glistening maleness was purpling and nearly full. John engulfed the head once more as Harold tickled his ears. Harold’s hands moved down to John’s open jaw, chasing the motion as John widened it to take him down to the root. Harold’s bushy pubic hair stimulated John’s nose and swirled more sweet scent to John’s face.

Sucking the entire time, John began to bob his head, stimulating the shaft from tip to base. Harold groaned and his toes dug into the plush carpeting. John used his left hand to twist the base and add sensation. His hand and mouth collided in sloppy, dripping smacks that satisfied them both. John was full and happy, he had purpose. Harold was thrusting and climbing to his orgasm, he was outside his mind and content inside his broken body .

John pulled his mouth off, but continued to pump the shaft with a hand. “You want to come this way or with me inside you?”

It took a second or two for Harold to gather his wits enough to answer, a situation that made John smile. Harold looked at his husband with fondness. The smile had been missed. “Like this. I want to be relaxed when you enter me. I want you, all of you as hard as you can give it to me.”

These bold words made John’s neglected cock twitch and fill to complete hardness. His boxer-briefs were now chafing. He leaned back to grab a handful of fabric and yanked them down while still stroking Harold. John hopped up enough to release the shorts from his weight. Once free from his ass, the underwear pooled at his feet. He absentmindedly kicked them in the direction of his clothes as he popped Harold back into his mouth.

Now with a goal in mind, John gathered the wrinkled testes in his right hand. They were heavy and squirming, readying to draw up. John was completely occupied with his task. His head bobbed, his left hand stroked and his right hand massaged. His mind went blissfully blank. Nothing to see, smell, feel, but Harold. With each completion of a cycle, John’s hips rocked forward, his toes curled.

His shoulders and neck burned, his arms tired. The effort was full-bodied. In rare moments that John could ever find peace, this was one of those moments. He was giving everything he had, everything he was to this act of love and devotion. As John’s energy began to ebb, Harold began to thrust and moan. There was a flurry of motion from both of them. Then Harold cried out and grunted. His seed spilled into John’s mouth with a bitter emulsion that tingled the salivary glands. John kept pulling and sucking until Harold grunted a final time, his balls no longer jerking and spasming.

John held the spent phallus in a soft hand, knowing it was sensitive, but not ready to cut his connection with Harold just yet. John swallowed while watching Harold catch his breath. The sweat had tamed and flattened Harold’s spiky hair. He was radiant, he was beautiful. He would show this sight to no one else ever again. Another gift.

John’s body sizzled with renewed fervor. The blood pumped to every cell, leaving in its wake a heat that only his mate could bear. John gathered Harold to him and leaned back on the mattress. Harold kissed John full on the mouth, no squeamishness, no secrets between them. John’s hands roamed Harold’s flesh, searching and grabbing, kneading and needing.

He turned them over to rest Harold’s neck and rubbed his hard cock against damp, hairy, and soft skin. John was ravenous. He bit at Harold’s neck, careful to leave no marks that would be visible over starched collars. Harold trusted John, no warnings or admonishments rang out. They had been together long enough that those rough edges have been filed down to the point where they now fit together like bricks whose mortar was tragedy and triumph. Neither had allowed the other to completely change who they were, but those sharp notches that hurt, that jabed and made one bleed had been blunted.

John undulated against Harold, providing succor and pressure to his thirsty body. With John mindlessly rutting against him,  Harold was the one who needed to deal with the necessity of supplies and position. He pushed and tugged John until their heads were on the hotel’s bleached white pillows.

Harold groped for the top drawer of the nightstand. He opened it and retrieved the lube. They had both been tested every six months for a year and a half after they began their intimate relationship. Harold had been satisfied that he was not endangering John. John was convinced that anything he came into contact with on the streets helping the homeless and the junkies would not be passed onto Harold. They had stopped using condoms, but of course they still were careful with each other during penetration.

The cold tube being forced into his hand brought sanity back to John’s mind. He might be boiling over with lust but that tube meant that Harold needed to be stretched. Harold’s comfort and safety always came first, always. John took a clean, bracing breath and squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt at banking the raging fires within him. Once he was sure he was under control, John pulled back to crouch over Harold.

Harold lay there on the starched white sheets, his flushed face and tousled hair in sharp contrast. He glowed to John’s eyes. John smiled indulgently and began to coat his left hand, They were practised at this from both sides. Harold lifted his feet to rest on John’s shoulders. John leaned over his lover to enter with careful fingers. The stretch and burn had its own appeal. This was intimate and special. Not many people were allowed to touch them in this way.

Every so often as he was about to spread his fingers wider, John would kiss Harold’s lips or nuzzle the soft cock. When the ordeal became too much, John bent in half to take Harold’s balls into his mouth.  Soon, Harold’s body recognized its invader. The guardian muscles relaxed.

John straightened up, coated his own straining length, tossed the tube in the drawer and stretched out over his waiting husband. John didn’t want to force Harold’s legs, so he went slow.

First the head, in and out. In a short time, John felt that he could go further, deeper. Within a few brief, but exquisite seconds John‘s groin was rhythmically smacking against Harold’s ass.

Right away, Harold realized this wasn’t going to be a long session, John was too hot, too hard, and too needy. Harold shifted his legs to circle John’s waist. John fell forward and placed a hand on either side of Harold’s head.

John pumped his hips and bit his lip. He was radiant and beautiful to Harold. The hard cock inside him sparked enough sexual feeling that Harold could enjoy this, but not feel any urgency. All Harold’s considerable focus was on John, John’s pleasure and needs.

John groaned on a particularly hard thrust that allowed him to bury himself to the root. He shimmied his hips from side to side to maximize the sensation while Harold smoothed a hand over sweaty shoulders, down hot skin, adding to John’s enjoyment.  John opened his eyes to look down at the wonderful person below him. John thought of how close to losing this he had been and it choked him up a bit. The idea that one missed message could have forever changed them, that once again a lost word from John had taken away the most important person in the world to him. That thought nearly brought him to tears. Instead he kissed Harold sweetly and rolled his hips enthusiastically. The end had not come for them, they still had each other, which was all John ever really needed.

Then John’s breathing became hard and fast, his hips pushed him forward and rocked him back. John was now mindlessly rutting. It was at times like this that Harold felt closest to John.  

This broken and betrayed man felt comfortable enough with Harold to let all guards down, to wallow in the pleasure, to forget himself for a brief moment. Unfortunately, the body wanted what it wanted. Too soon for them both, John was coming in agonized grunts. John gasped loudly, his thrusts uncontrollable for three more strokes.

Once the aftershocks cessed, John rolled over and groaned. His whole being fizzled and popped with good vibrations. He felt like he could sleep for a week.

Harold was well used to John’s version afterglow. With some smugness, Harold cleaned them up while John lulled in a semi-conscious state. Harold tried not to feel proud, but every time John was reduced to a puddle by their lovemaking it was an ego boost to say the least. An orgasm usually made Harold more alert, more alive, and energized. Once John was softly snoring, Harold donned a robe and went to the bathroom then ordered supper.

Just as Harold hung the phone up, there was a surprising knock on the door. John was awake instantly. He grabbed his gun and walked over to the door completely naked. He cracked the door open with his gun hidden behind the thick wood. The bellhop who had assisted Harold earlier in moving his luggage nervously stood holding a package.

The young man spoke in heavily accented English. “Mr. Thornhill asked for me to personally deliver this to Mr. Diver.”

John stepped away to let Harold handle it. Harold took the package from the bellhop with a thank you, giving the young man the equivalent of a twenty dollar tip. John returned to the bed and flopped down again

Inside the large, legal size envelope was only a single sheet of paper. It was coded. Harold sat down at the desk with a pen. Within minutes he had deciphered the page. He sat back with a puzzled expression.

Harold said to the once again snoring John,  “It seems that your voice message was recovered by The Machine. I don‘t know how it was erased, but The Machine assures us that the alias attached to the message is intact and secure.”

John grunted from the bed, “Good.” He rolled over, exposing his scared,  tanned, but alluring torso. He propped his head up on his hand. “You know, it is only two and half days til Christmas. We could stay here.”

John shrugged as if the matter were unimportant, but Harold could see the longing in his eyes. “You know we never got a real honeymoon. Shaw can handle any Numbers we send. If she can’t, we aren’t that far away.”

Harold went to the bathroom, then over to the sink. He lit the paper on fire, making sure all the ashes were flushed away in the toilet. He returned to look at his husband. Slowly, Harold disrobed and climbed into bed. He snuggled up to John’s back, smoothing his hands over the plans of muscle that were bronzed and pitted. The skin was warm, alive, here, and his.

“I think we’re due a break. Your wounds still need healing, your suits will need to be ordered, and a honeymoon in Italy sounds divine.” Harold bent to kiss John’s shoulder and laid down next to his returned lover, Christmas lists running in his head.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your patience with this and thanks to Blue_Finch for the Beta


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